


Small Deities

by bluemooning



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aftercare, Aged-Up Character(s), Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:52:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9305423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemooning/pseuds/bluemooning
Summary: Oikawa is quick to injure himself, as always. Iwaizumi kisses it better.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [abri](http://kousea.tumblr.com) and [molly](http://fishfu.tumblr.com) helped me beta this fic. please shower them with love and affection and $100 dollar bills

It was too quiet when Iwaizumi opened the door to their apartment, his eyes landing on someone brilliant and blinding. He shielded his eyes, for safety.

“Oikawa,” he said, and dropped his bag by the door. “You - “

He was at the couch in an instant. His legs collapsed of their own accord. Maybe if he didn’t reach out, didn’t acknowledge Oikawa’s bright red, smarting right knee, the leg stretched out and elevated on the coffee table - maybe then it wouldn’t be real.

His eyes travelled up to meet Oikawa - or at least they tried. Oikawa blinked once, and then would not meet Iwaizumi’s gaze.

“What happened?”

Their eyes finally met. Iwaizumi felt something pounding hard in his chest when he took it in, like this, seeing Oikawa head on - how his eyes were bloodshot and streaked with tears at the corners - his cheeks flushed and his chest heaving. A thin sheen of sweat seemed to cover his skin.

And then there was that knee, right in front of Iwaizumi. He hadn’t seen it in ages. It was nearly always covered by that brace, currently lying on the coffee table.

With an easy movement, Oikawa scooped it up. While he tried to slip it back on his leg, he smiled and laughed more. His white teeth sparkled. “Nothing, nothing at all, Iwa-chan!”

He couldn’t get it on. His hands were shaking too much. It only got partway up his calf before Iwaizumi stopped him - holding his hand down, giving Oikawa a chance to catch his breath. And yet he had barely moved.

This was no bump, nothing that would heal in a day or two. The skin around Oikawa’s knee flared angrily, as if it would be hot to the touch. It held a rainbow of colors, of it’s own - reds and purples and blacks that made Oikawa wince over and over.

“This isn’t nothing,” said Iwaizumi, and the anger in his voice could not be controlled. “You overworked yourself. Again.”

He grabbed Oikawa by the chin, and forced their eyes to meet. The silence between them grew heated, and thick enough to cut.

Oikawa’s smile wobbled, starting at the corners of his mouth. And then, it broke, at all once. His darting eyes looked everywhere but at Iwaizumi. He was not a pretty crier, not in any sense of the word. “I - I did.”

He wiped a tear from his eye, like it had never been there. But the rest came fast. He couldn’t have stopped them, even if he had wanted to.

“I just - I was practicing serving, over and over. I - they had to be better, - and then I tripped, and fell - right on my knee - and I couldn’t get up.”

Oikawa sniffled again. This time, Iwaizumi wiped the tears from his cheek. “Who helped you home?”

“No one.”

Upon seeing Iwaizumi’s new expression, his voice came in a sharp cry. “It’s not like that! I was the last one, everyone else already left. They gave me the key before they left and told me to lock up,” Despite the circumstances, his mouth curled back into a smile. “And I got home, anyways, so it’s nothing to worry about!”

His elevated leg trembled, just barely. But it seemed to send shockwaves through Oikawa. His face contorted into something terrible, eyebrows rising and mouth falling open in pained tension. Oikawa’s shoulders tensed up tight, and the rest of his body followed suit.

“So,” said Iwaizumi, “you were just - lying on the gym floor, alone - and you couldn’t get up, couldn’t get help - “

“But Iwa-chan, I did get up!” cried Oikawa, his voice soaked in pleading. “It just - it took a while. And I did get home, I’m here now, it’s okay. Why are you - “ he suddenly stopped talking, like he needed to collect his thoughts - “Why are you so worried?”

Iwaizumi was quiet for a moment. “I can’t believe I’m dating an idiot.”

“Look who’s talking!” Oikawa squawked.

It might have been comic of him. But then another fresh tremor of agony shot through him. It showed on his face and in his entire body, that giant frame that could not hide anything. Each of his movements seemed to be magnified, and made it worse to watch. Oikawa’s mouth fell open in a soundless cry, and he squeezed his eyes shut - like it was too hard for even himself to see. 

“You…” Iwaizumi started to say, his voice slowly fading. The silence between them was almost too much. “You need to rest.”

Oikawa laughed again - a high, discordant sound. “What do you think I’m doing now, Iwa-chan?”

“I mean,” said Iwaizumi, “Like for a while.”

He let his words sink in.

“You - you can’t keep doing this.”

“I’ll do what I want!”

“Well, at this rate, you won’t be able to even do that!” Iwaizumi could hear himself shouting. His voice echoed off the walls of their apartment and in the space between them. “You’ll get injured for good, dumbass, and then you won’t be able to play volleyball! At all!”

Iwaizumi’s chest was heaving something powerful. He looked up at Oikawa - and his heartbeat stuttered, and then stopped.

“Hey, don’t cry.”

He reached out towards Oikawa, but his hand was immediately slapped away. The skin of the back of his hand was tinged red, and yet he barely felt a thing. It would have surely paled in comparison to the pain that held Oikawa captive, right now.

Out of instinct, he squatted to the floor and took Oikawa’s left foot in his hands, slowly and in stages. Oikawa barely noticed, at first - but when Iwaizumi’s grip gained traction, massaging the skin stretched over his bones - he jolted slightly.

“Don’t move.”

His fingers worked independently, pressing and rotating and working the skin - pushing hard on Oikawa’s foot and working out all the kinks, accumulated from hours upon hours of practice. Everyone had their limits, but Oikawa always seemed to just barrel through them, for better or for worse.

Like something from a dream, Iwaizumi leaned forward - and pressed his lips to Oikawa’s foot.

It was quiet between them. Then, Oikawa jolted to life. “Iwa-chan!!”

“Shut up!” Iwaizumi pushed and jostled Oikawa back down onto the couch. “You really do have to rest!”

“But,” protested Oikawa, “how - “

“Just, sit down, okay?”

Oikawa obeyed him. He seemed to melt into the sofa as Iwaizumi held his heel in his hands, holding on without force - but supportive all the same. His grasp traveled up to hold Oikawa’s calf, and massaging it more. The muscle beneath, sheathed in skin and deceptively lean, burned beneath Iwaizumi’s touch.

Words were impossible for Iwaizumi, right about now. It was much better for him to occupy his mouth, peppering Oikawa’s leg with kisses, musky and trembling beneath the fluttering of his lips. He let his mouth travel to the inside of Oikawa’s thigh - and from above him, a high cry escaped into the air.

“Iwa - you - “

Oikawa resorted to incoherence. His breathing grew labored, and he threw his head back, and - was that a sob? From his gaping mouth? No way.

Iwaizumi let his mouth linger on the edge of Oikawa’s hips - forming a sharp V that disappeared behind the waistband of his shorts. In one hand, he held the fabric of Oikawa’s shirt. The other had long since slid onto Oikawa’s stomach, eventually finding a home in the crook of Oikawa’s waist.

“C’mon, help me out,” he mumbled, and Oikawa was only too eager to comply. He took his shirt with shaky hands and lifted it up, until his lean, muscled chest was bared to the world. 

“I - Iwa - “

For once, Iwaizumi did not tell him to shut up. There were more pressing issues at hand.

His kisses covered Oikawa’s abdomen and came fast and irregular, tiny and fleeting - feather-light - like they had never been there in the first place. They made Oikawa struggle to keep them close - and maybe, they were the only thing keeping him in this breathing world.

And then blood - a reminder of his mortality, draining from him all over, coursing hot through his veins - rushing to his cheeks and making them flush pink. It pooled in the space between his legs and heated his body more.

“You’re a pervert,” Iwaizumi decided, for himself - who gave him the right? - and then he was upon Oikawa again, his lips all over the wide planes of his torso. He kissed and sucked the skin beneath his mouth more. It seemed a little like love. But Oikawa couldn’t feel now, how each spot would bruise in a matter of minutes, and grow tender with time. All he had right now was the feeling of Iwaizumi, kissing his chest more - taking a nipple between his lips and licking, letting his teeth scrape, like it was his only purpose.

That moment could have lasted forever, if it had wanted to. Then, Iwaizumi would never have to let go of Oikawa. But either way, he didn’t want to. And he might have ravished Oikawa more, beyond all hope of recovery. But when Oikawa practically screamed, with new rage tearing through him, digging his fingernails deep into Iwaizumi’s back - it brought him back to reality. It would not do for the neighbors to call the police, for fear of suspected domestic violence, for the third time in a row.

Iwaizumi pulled away, pulled back. He forced his racing heart to rein it in a bit, and took advantage of the lull, taking stock of the situation. In front of him, Oikawa was flushed all over, red radiating from his knee and pink everywhere else. Without Iwaizumi to hold onto, he gripped the sofa cushions with white knuckles. 

“Iwa-chan, get back here,” he hissed, with new fervor and fresh poison dripping from his pretty lips. “And don’t even think of stopping.”

Their eyes met. Iwaizumi was the first to blink. He might have gone blind otherwise, staring into sunlight like this.

“Whatever you say.” 

He crawled on up, straddling Oikawa’s left thigh - and helped him slip his shirt off, their movements a mess of arms and hands and touching all over, when it was convenient, and even when it wasn't. 

“Hurry up,” Oikawa whined more, and then he had no more voice left to give. He seemed to have lost it in one fell swoop. But by the way he writhed more beneath Iwaizumi, lips pressed together and his body taut as a bowstring - the bulge in his shorts becoming more and more obvious - maybe he hadn’t lost his words so carelessly. In fact, they might have very well been outright stolen from him.

This realization made Iwaizumi grin, as he moved more and more, and then paused - taking his sweet time. Like he was handling something delicate, he slid his hand up Oikawa’s neck and trembling cheek. The pads of his fingers lingered for a long moment, the skin soft and streaked with fresh wetness beneath his touch. For a while, neither of them said a word.

Oikawa was the first to break the silence. “I said, hurry up already - “

He was shut up with a kiss, open mouthed and full of trembling heat. It caught him by surprise - and for a second, he forgot how to react. But that was okay. He was no stranger at finding his own way - carving it out by force, creating a path that he could take. 

And yet somehow, it was so much easier with Iwaizumi here with him, to help him out - for better or for worse.

He found himself utterly speechless when Iwaizumi finally pulled away from him, mouth slick and lips parted. His shoulders moved up and down with his breathing, and nearly mirrored Oikawa’s movements. Their shared body language said what neither of them could think to vocalize.

In a fresh flurry of movement, Iwaizumi fumbled with the waistband of Oikawa’s shorts, pulling them down, until he could ease Oikawa’s erection out into the open. He squatted back down to the floor, having found his place between Oikawa’s legs. 

He could only imagine what it looked like from Oikawa’s point of view - his head bowed like this, licking and kissing the cock in front of him, while it twitched more beneath his touch - how his hands were wrapped around the base, adding new pressure that sent Oikawa reeling.

His injured leg spasmed. It jolted up in the air and almost came down hard - but Iwaizumi’s hand shot out, catching it as it fell - softening the blow. He lowered it down gently and looked up at Oikawa.

“You okay?”

“Better’n okay,” Oikawa gasped. It was like the pain hadn’t even registered to him. Like he was too distracted to notice. His jittery hands slid onto Iwaizumi’s head, moving it where he wanted - and then holding it in place. 

His breathing grew loud and labored. Iwaizumi could feel his hair being pulled - hard enough for it to hurt. But it came with the job. And he wasn’t about to complain now, not at this point. As he ran his tongue one more time along Oikawa’s shaft, he snuck another glimpse skywards, to the man of the hour - flushed and panting and crying out shamelessly, his voice high and needy.

And then Oikawa sobbed once - mouth wide open and body in impossible tension. He came in jolts, spilling onto his thighs and belly and Iwaizumi’s face, until he finally collapsed into himself. The quiet returned in full force and made Iwaizumi afraid to move.

He stole a glance at Oikawa’s knee. It was still ugly, flaring - but somehow, Oikawa himself looked perfectly at ease. In fact, he was almost smirking down at Iwaizumi.

“Doctor Iwa-chan healed me all up,” he said, grinning more. But his high couldn’t last forever. And when he winced with his entire body, Iwaizumi jumped up with shaky feet. He reached for the pair of crutches, leaned up against the couch - but Oikawa grabbed his arm and kept it there in midair.

“Wait,” said Oikawa, “Wait a moment.”

He leaned back into the sofa, moaning in a small voice. His eyes fluttered closed and his chest rose and fell with his breathing. Even in his disheveled state, he looked utterly at peace. Iwaizumi could have watched him like this forever.

But when Oikawa’s head nodded, and fell to the side - a position sure to leave his neck sore in the morning - Iwaizumi took action. He slid his arms under Oikawa, and hoisted him up into the air, bridal style. Oikawa’s right knee still radiated red, and it never really left Iwaizumi’s sight.

He went to their bedroom, and eased Oikawa onto the bed, on his back. He got a wet towel from the bathroom and wiped Oikawa off, until his body was damp and clean and glistening under the yellow light. The last clean corner of the towel went towards wiping off his own face - and despite himself, he smirked. He pulled Oikawa’s shirt down, pulling him together - repairing his broken body the only way he could. Time would have to take care of the rest.

And after he tucked Oikawa into bed, turning the lights off - he slipped under the covers and let himself fall into quiet slumber. Second by second, the night grew darker. 

But when Oikawa blinked once, in the stillness and the peace, he could feel his body smoldering still. And yet it didn’t hurt a bit. The warmth inside him filled him up from head to toe, and it overwrote the pain in his knee, having long since faded to a dull ebb - barely there at all.

He grinned, and closed his eyes. He slept.

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos are super appreciated!


End file.
